My Secret Life
by SejiADettswic
Summary: She's inconspicuous with a life behind the scenes that she doesn't want anyone to know about. But when he finds out her secret and she finds out he has his own secret life, what can a girl do but blackmail him.
1. Long Lost Love

**Chapter 1**

"My parents look at each other like the other is everything, and anything that matters. It's as if, they only see each other, only, they know you're there, but it's like it doesn't matter. Like, I don't know how to describe it, they just mean so much to each other, and you can tell that when they look at each others eyes."

At least that's what my friend, Carrie says. And it's true. I've seen her parents once, but when they looked at each other I was like WOW! _And Natasha thinks she's in love!_ Ever since I saw that, I've wanted to know that feeling. I've wanted to see how they could feel so much for each other. I haven't seen anyone look at another person that way again. My parents don't love each other. They were forced into marriage… I think. I'm there only child, and I regret ever having been born. _I wonder if they ever regret my birth?_ They make it obvious that they dislike me. I won't say hate, but that is basically a mutual feeling my family has for one another. My mother is never home, once I was on the street and saw her drunk, walking out of a strip club. But whenever she comes home, she's never drunk. I think that's why I only see her like once every other month. My father…well, I won't get into him until I have to.

So, as you can tell, I take care of myself. I don't know how we have our house though, and I don't know why the American Humane society hasn't showed up. I guess no one bothers to call them, whatever. I go to school, but I spend the rest of my time doing homework and working at my multiple jobs. I pay for my school education, I doubt my parents even realize that I go to school. We don't talk to each other. The closest it gets to a conversation is my dad yelling at me.

I don't have any time for a social life. But I do have one friend, Carrie. I've known Carrie since I was in first grade, when I decided to make a living and get an education. Carrie doesn't know my situation, no one does. Carrie and I do our homework together, sometimes at her house. Other than that I don't know anyone. I mean, I know peoples names, I just don't _know _them. I have become an expert at multitasking. I'm a skilled eavesdropper. So while at school, doing homework etc I listen to the conversations going on around me. I have to admit, you get to know people. So, basically, if you want to know something about anyone or everyone in the school, go to me, because if I don't know it, no one does. And yet, No one in the whole school will be able to tell you a thing about my life, my real life, my secret life.


	2. School's Out

**Chapter 2**

It's Friday; the last day of eighth grade. I'm wearing worn out and ripped black skinny jeans, with a _live fast, rock hard _t-shirt on. By the way, I don't buy my clothing ripped 'cause I know it'll just end up ripped in the end. Why not wait for the process to start on it's own? Now you might think that I have a car, or a really nice iphone, or look pretty or something like that. But my straw colored hair, my blue bike that I found in a dumpster, my invisible phone, and my first generation classic ipod do not exactly fit that description.

As I bike to school I am overjoyed, my father hasn't come home in a week. _Maybe he's dead!_ I think joyfully to myself. _Maybe he's rotting in an ally way, his soul cast into the fiery pits of hell! _I get lost in my fantasies.

The cars roll by me. The six miles to get to school is an easy ride. Treading up this hill every day since first grade, I could do it with my eyes closed. As I get closer more people from my middle school start appearing on the sidewalk. There is light energy between them, expectant for the awaiting summer. For once, my mood matches there's. The lot is packed when I glide in and lock my bike onto rack. People are huddled in their groups around the yard. One saying nasty jokes, another singing the latest songs, some other group was fawning over a jock, a fourth group was playing truth or dare ect. I sighed, school was so peaceful, it was amazing how quiet everything could be.

I pulled my sweatshirt on over my head and walked through the huddled no bodies. _Love the way you lie _blasting in my ears. No one glances my way, or even spares me a second thought. Sometimes I wonder weather I'm a ghost, I laugh aloud. Grace and Jennifer looked at me funny. Sometimes people give me these looks, but I don't care. I know that I've been through more than any of them would care to know. So I keep my pace, into my homeroom.

"Name," Ms. Langley asked at the entrance.

"Venessa Nieves."

"Thank you, Miss Nieves, you may sit in your assigned seat."

I walked over to the last row, into the right corner and swung my backpack down. There's something you should know, I gave myself the name Venessa when I decided to enter into school. Before that I was 'kid' and 'girl.' To my parents, I still am. To my fiends, or friend, I am Venus. And for Jobs and school, I am Venessa. (When I went into first grade I didn't know how to spell Venessa, so comes my irregular spelling.)

Eventually, only three seats are empty: They're always empty when class stats. The bell rings loud and demanding at 8 sharp. "Alright everyone," Ms. Langley silences the class, "Today, you graduate. Since you are going away a week earlier than the rest of the school, you may all feel free to return and visit your younger classmates. Moving onto the graduation, however, I must remind all of you to do your parts for the ceremony. I am going to go through the-"

Laughing bursts through the suddenly open door, accompanied by three figures.

"Marcos, Rosalie, Lucas, how nice of you to join us. I hope school hasn't interrupted your busy social life." The class snickers; it's funny how accurate a teacher can be. "Now, if you would be kind enough to give us your presence for what's left of school, I am sure we would be most honored." They fell into their seats at the front of the class without another word.

"Now then," Ms. Langley picked up where she had left off, "I am going to go through the list of your names and see if you have what you were required to bring today.

"Miss Caroline Ackman."

"Yes?"

"Did you bring the yearbook?"

"Yes."

"Did you bring the money for your gown?"

"Yes."

"Put it in the envelope on my desk. Mr. Gorge Adams."

And so the list continues, going from one person to the next, until she calls my name.

"Venessa Nieves."

"Present," I say. The whole class looks at me, I doubt they even new I was here before this moment. Well, everyone but Carrie, who is luckily in my class. She gives me a reassuring smile.

"Did you bring a, um, oh dear. I don't believe I put you down for anything."

"I know."

"Well, I suppose you won't be doing anything."

"Actually, I'm doing the final speech."

"But, Isn't Lizzie, from 14A doing that?"

"My speech is after hers." I say matter o' factly.

"Oh, well then….do you have the money for your gown?" she says, confused.

"Yes." I say and walk up to put it on her desk.

*later*

The graduation ceremony was great, until I went up, that's when the complete disaster began. Good thing no one knows me. But, I just made it that much more fun for the other kids in eighth grade. The 'speech' that I had prepared was…interesting. I basically said that our class ruled the world and that everyone else could do some stuff.

Walking back to Carrie's house I talk to her about how lame the reception party probably was. We decided to skip it, cause, really, as if the school parents were going to give us a good time. The only person I could count on to come up with wicked cool party plans was moa. "I bet the tables are all covered in matching white table cloths and the music is Motzart."

Carrie laughed, "Venus, I don't know what I'd do without your sense of humor."

"You'd die."

"Good thing we hang out then isn't it?"

"Yup."

"Thank you."

"For what?" I asked.

"Thanks for being here for me. No one understands me like you do. I feel like I can talk to you about anything, and you won't laugh. It feels really good to have someone I know I can open up to without it spreading throughout the whole school. But I worry about you. Sometimes I even wonder if you ever smile."

I smirked, "Yeah right." But in my head I was thinking some thing else, _me too kid, me too._

"So are you planning on staying at my house tonight?"

"Sure."

"Okay, I'll let my parentals know," she said as we walked up her huge front steps.

Carrie's house is _**huge. **_I mean, if I had a house that big I wouldn't know what to do with half the space. Her house is two stories tall. "Carrie!" I hollered up at her.

"Yeah?"

"I'm going to work, I'll see you around eight."

"Kay!"

Walking to Gerald's Works I plugged in my earphones. Gerald's Works is one of the many places that I have acquired as a job, or, you could call it money insurance. Gerald's Works is a hardware store that basically is what it sounds like. A boring, plain old, hardware store.

"Hey. hey!"

"What?"

"Where are the hammers?"

"Isle eleven, next to the crackerjack boxes."

"Right this way ma'am"

"Ugh, mama's boys," I said to myself.

_when I grow up I want to be famous_

_I want to be a star_

_I wanna be in movies_

_See the world_

_Drive nice cars_

_I wanna have boobies_

_When I grow up_

_Be on TV. People know me_

_Be on magazines_

_When I grow up, fresh and clean_

_Number one chick when I step out on the scene_

_be careful what you wish for_

_cause you just might get it_

_you just might get it_

_you just might get it._

"Hey?"

It was the same voice, "What?" I said looking up. And oh my god, he was actually cute. It was practically against the law to be a mama's boy and cute. And when I say cute I don't mean kid cute, I mean _hot _cute. Too bad his hotness didn't drown out his _other _side, but maybe I'd misjudged him.

"I just wanted to thank you for helping me out."

Nope, he was definitely a mama's boy. "Ugh, whatever." I turned back to the box.

"I'm new here."

Picking up some more stuff out of the box I put it in its place.

"My name is-"

"I couldn't care less."

"Well, do you know how to get back to the front desk?"

"Yeah."

"….

"Could you tell me?" he asked.

"I'm sure you can figure it out yourself."

Just then _Boss _came over. "Venessa, I've had yet another complaint from a costumer about you. If you keep this up then I'm going to have to fire you." I rolled my eyes. "This is serious," he continued, "Do you want to lose your job?" Just then he noticed dude standing next to me. "What are you doing over here? Is she giving you a hard time? Venessa-"

"No," he interrupted, "I was lost, Venessa was just telling me how to get back to the front desk."

"Oh, well Venessa," he smiled, "it seems like I may consider keeping you."

I sighed and went back to work. Eventually they walked away.

After getting home that night I decided that I needed to get a swim suit. Summer was here and, let's face it, I'm not going to spend it at home waiting for my parents to come home. I went into my room and dropped my bike on the floor. "Shit," I swore. I forgot my backpack at Gerald's Works. Grabbing the home phone, which somehow magically works, I dialed Carries number.

"Hey Venus," Carrie picked up

"Hey Carrie, I'm home, I'll meet you at your house at ten."

"Okay. But why don't we ever meet at your house?"

"Because I say we can't." and I shut the phone.

Then, I heard something I **never **want to hear: the front door opening, while I'm in the house. The next thing I heard made me realize that I should have slept at Carrie's house. "SONOFABITCH,COMEOUTHEREYOUUNGRATEFUL-

I knocked on Mr. Gerald's office door.

"Come in," I heard from the other side of the door. "Oh, Mr. Silver, what can I do for you?" he said, taking off his glasses, and setting down a piece of paper.

"I found Venessa's backpack; she must have left it behind."

He sighed, "Well then-"

"I could bring it to her if you want."

"Really? That would be fabulous."

"I just need her address."

*a little later*

I checked the piece of paper I had in my hand. This was the right house. Had Mr. Silver written the wrong address? Well, I was going to have to take my chances, I didn't have anywhere else to go. I walked up to what looked like the front door of this…. I couldn't call it a house, it was just a little bigger then my shed. I rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer. After a while I heard a few locks turn and saw the door open to reveal….


	3. Someone Sees My Secret

**Chapter 3**

Venessa stood there, covered in patches of blood and bruises. "What d'you want?" she said.

"I…I, I came to give you back your back pack."

She grabbed the backpack out of my hand, "Bye," and began shutting the door.

"Wait. What…what happened to you?" I asked horrified. Just then I heard someone shouting from inside the house.

'_getbackhereyouscaredlilfag!'_

"Coming!" she yelled, and slammed the door in my face. I stood there for a few minutes hearing the whispers of things being yelled behind the door. Suddenly, I understood, but my understanding of her situation only caused more questions to arise in my mind.

The next day I pulled down my black hoodie down over my long sleeved shirt. That, along with my dark jeans and sunglasses covered almost everything. But, just as a safety measure, I put concealer over everything that could even possibly be seen. My dad had come back; he wasn't dead, he hadn't died. I think that knowledge hurt more than when he hit me. I just couldn't let anyone find out about my life, my secret life.

I had been able to keep my life confidential for over fourteen years. _Fourteen years! _Do you know how long that is to keep a secret? It's a long time. And I'd been able to do it, but now, I'm unsure of what will happen to my secret life. Now that Mama's boy has seen me, has figured it out. _What if he tells someone?_ My thoughts immediately begin to get hysterical. No one can find out, no one! I couldn't tell you why, it was just a feeling that I had. NO ONE COULD FIND OUT! Walking over to Carrie's house (my dad broke my bike) my troubling thoughts about the new guy at work continued to barrage me.

"Hey Carrie," I said as I stepped through her doorway.

"Hey, aren't you hot? How many layers are you wearing?" She was eating cereal at her white porcelain kitchen counter.

"I'm fine." She didn't push for more details. I liked that about Carrie. If I didn't say anything she knew not to ask for more details. Yet, when I wanted to say something but didn't know how to start, she knew, and would say, 'What's up?' Which basically translated into, 'spill the beans.'

Walking over to a cabinet I pulled out a bowl and some cereal. Getting milk from her fridge I sat next to her on one of the high stools and ate in silence. "Why didn't you come to my house last night? I had your room ready and everything." That's right she had my room ready, not my bed, my room. That's how big her house is, "I had a whole list of things to do!"

"Sorry, my dad said I couldn't go.'

"But you called from your house."

"Yeah, well, that was before my dad came home." I'd forgotten why I stayed at Carrie's house. The original reason was to get away from _him_. The first thought on my mind was always to leave before he came, so I invented the 'meetings' at Carries house. That was when I was in first grade. After that, it's been sort of a common meeting that we do every week, more during the summer.

"Whatever. Wanna watch _Revenge of the Dead_?" You wouldn't think that a girl like Carrie would like violent movies about the living dead, but well, I guess people can surprise you. But today I just wasn't in the mood.

"Uh, how about a calmer movie."

"Like what?"

"How about _The Seeker_?"

"Okay, it's in the small cabinet on the third shelf, you know where."

"Yeah, thanks," I told her as I headed up to her theatre. I know right, she has a _theatre _in her _house. She's fucking rich, people!_ And she doesn't have one of those room size theaters either. She has a pretty good sized theatre. I mean the whole school could definitely not fit in it. But our class, definitely could.

We passed the entire day watching movie after movie after move. After eating tons popcorn and sitting movie in Carrie's fabulously rich chairs, we each went into our rooms and climbed into bed. Most people would have stayed up and talked with each other throughout the whole nigh but we both wanted to catch up on all the sleep that had been lost during the school year, so we did.

Sleep is something I love. You're basically thinking about stuff that you don't remember when you wake up. I can think anything I want about everyone and anyone in the world but no one will ever know what it was that I thought about. Does that make any sense? Forget about it.


End file.
